Finally
by Squid7000
Summary: A series of one-shots on how some of our favorite characters FINALLY got together! All canon. Much fluff. Now up: George and Angelina! "They said she was a miracle." *ABANDONED; I'm sorry: *
1. Harry and Ginny, Take On the World

**Finally**

**A/N: **So, this was just an idea I had about how characters finally got together. My 3rd fanfic! Woo-hoo! First up: Harry and Ginny!

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is my own.

**Ch. 1 Harry and Ginny; Take On the World**

Harry Potter stood at the edge of the Black Lake of Hogwarts, gazing at the sparkling water and feeling as if he would never smile again.

It had been three days since the Battle of Hogwarts, a battle that had changed his and so many others' lives. It had been an almost out-of-body experience. How could everything he had been forced to live with for 18 years be gone?

So many had died . . . not just in the Battle of Hogwarts, but in the everlasting war against Voldemort. Warriors . . . his father, Mad-eye Moody, Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Dobby, Snape, Sirius . . . . People who _chose_ to die, rather than take an easier path . . . his mother, Dumbledore, Regulus Black . . . . And those who had simply been in the way . . . the old man Harry had dreamed about in his fourth year, Cedric Diggory, Hedwig. Worst of all, Harry couldn't help but feel responsible for each one of their deaths.

Harry rubbed his face and sighed tiredly. Hogwarts was open to almost anyone right now, but soon he would have to leave, go out into the world, and begin the rest of his life. And quite frankly, he was scared.

"Harry?" A soft voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. He jumped and whirled around to see Ginny staring at him, looking as beautiful as ever. "Sorry," she quickly added. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's --- it's alright," he said gruffly, turning back around. "Not your fault."

He could sense her hesitating, before coming to stand next to him.

"How are you doing?" she asked without looking at him.

"Fine."

"Harry, I know you better than that."

He sighed dejectedly. "I'm pretty torn up," he admitted.

Ginny nodded. "Me too. Everyone is."

She leaned in closer then, far too close. Her brown eyes met his green ones. "It's not your fault, you know," she whispered. ""They knew what they were doing, what they were fighting for."

She continued to lean in, so Harry could smell her flowery scent and he had to fight the impulse not to close the distance between them. "I know what I'm doing, too, Harry."

Harry realized with a start that they were no longer talking about the war. He turned his head away.

"Ginny, stop," he said.

A hurt expression flashed across her features, before it turned stony and she leaned away. "Why?"

He took a deep breath and blurted, "We shouldn't be together."

"What?"

"You --- you deserve better than me."

"Better? Harry, you just saved the Wizarding World, how much 'better' can I get?"

Harry didn't look at her, but he could feel her eyes boring into the side of his head. "You deserve someone _normal_."

"Normal?" Ginny scoffed. "_Normal_? Well, what if I don't want _normal_? What if I want _you_?"

Harry did not answer.

"Is it because of Ron?" she asked quietly, causing Harry to whip around, startled. "Is it because Ron told you to lay off me?"

"What? What --- no! No, this has nothing to do with ---"

Ginny suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Because I don't care what Ron thinks! I've never cared!"

"Ginny ---" Harry started, but was cut off by footsteps and an all too familiar voce.

"Harry? I was looking everywhere for --- oh, hi, Ginny! What are you ---?"

Harry looked down at Ginny and with a start, realized she had tears in her eyes.

"He ruins everything, doesn't he?" she whispered before letting go of him. She turned and shoved past Ron. Then, she took off sprinting into the castle.

"OI!" Ron called after her. He looked back at Harry. "What's wrong with her?"

Harry just shrugged and turned back around.

Ron stared at his friend's back, before going to stand beside him.

"You really like her, don't you?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"What? Why?"

"She deserves better than me. Someone normal."

"Normal?" Ron questioned, his brow furrowed. "And what makes you _ab_normal?"

Harry stared at his best mate, his eyes wide. He raised a hand to his scar.

"Ah," Ron said knowingly. "That's what."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "And what's so astounding about that? You-Know ---" he sighed, "--- _Voldemort's _dead, right? The connection between you two has been cut. So that means your scar is . . . precisely that! A scar! And so what if it's shaped like lightning? Personally, I think a tornado would be much more impressive."

Harry felt a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Besides," Ron leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper, "I happen to know for a _fact_ that Ginny has a scar, too." He smiled. "So, go get 'er, mate."

Harry swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. "Ron ---" he choked, but Ron just shook his head.

"Don't mention it."

Harry nodded and took off running back to the castle.

"Ginny!" he called repeatedly after entering. "Ginny!"

"Harry?" a voice asked.

Harry spun around and saw that his red-haired beauty had just stepped out of an empty classroom. It pained him to see her tear stained cheeks.

"Ginny," he sighed and practically sprinted toward her.

"Har ---!" was all she got out before he took her head in his hands and crushed his lips to hers.

She seemed startled at first, but then she closed her eyes and slid her arms around his neck. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, trying to get all unsaid things into the kiss. It was pretty much the best kiss he had ever had.

Far too soon, the kiss was broken. He smiled down at her and she ran a hand through his untidy, black hair. Harry bent his neck so their foreheads were touching and kissed her nose. She giggled.

Whatever happened in the rest of his life, Harry finally felt sure it would be ok. Because the people who cared for him were with him, ready to take on the world.

**A/N: **What did you think? I'm probably going to do Ron and Hermione next. Please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	2. Ron and Hermione, Another Kiss

**Finally**

**A/N: **As promised, here is how Ron and Hermione got together. It takes place almost directly after Harry's chat with Dumbledore in DH. It's shorter than the last one, but I still hope it's slightly entertaining.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Ch. 2 Ron and Hermione, Another Kiss**

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley hung back as Harry Potter collapsed onto his four poster bed, after defeating Voldemort.

"Sleep well, Harry," Hermione said. "You deserve it."

Harry chuckled. "Thanks, Mione," he replied and was asleep within seconds.

Ron and Hermione continued to watch their sleeping friend for a few more moments.

"Can you believe it's over?" Ron suddenly asked, still gazing at Harry.

Hermione looked up at him and shook her head. "No," she answered truthfully. "I remember when it was just beginning."

"Do you remember how impossible it seemed to get through it all, then?"

Hermione nodded. "So well."

Ron laughed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as silence followed.

"That was really great of you, you know," Hermione said suddenly. She didn't look at him. "Thinking of the house-elves, I mean."

Ron shrugged. "Yeah . . . maybe I've been spending too much time around you."

Hermione hit his shoulder, but laughed all the same. She looked up and her brown eyes met his blue ones. Her smile slowly faded. She ran a hand through his scarlet hair and rested it on his neck.

He leaned in slowly, as did she, both their eyes fluttering closed. It felt like eternity for their lips to meet. They moved softly against each other as her hand caressed his cheek and his hands rested on her waist. After who knows how long, Ron pulled his head back, a smile beginning to form.

"So," he whispered, touching his forehead to hers, "how does it feel to finally be the girlfriend of the long awaited Ron Weasley?"

Hermione smiled and lifted her head to his, but just as their lips were about to touch, she shoved him away and crossed her arms.

"Who says I've been long awaiting you?" she challenged. "And you shouldn't just _assume_ I would want to be your girlfriend."

Ron looked dumbstruck at first, but then smiled. "Fine," he said, kneeling on one knee and taking Hermione's hand. "Hermione Jean Granger, will you . . . be my girlfriend?"

Hermione smiled. "I'll think about it."

"What?" Ron cried, leaping up. "But I ---"

"_Kidding_ Ron," Hermione laughed. "Honestly, you're so easily flustered."

Ron crossed his arms. "Not funny."

But his furious expression soon faded when she put her hand on his cheek and said, "Of _course_ I'll be your girlfriend."

Ron beamed. "Cool."

"So . . . how about we go see your family in the great hall? You should be with them."

Ron nodded. "Alright, then. Come on." He took her hand in his and led her out of Gryffindor Tower.

When they entered the Great Hall, Dean Thomas was the first person to see them and their intertwined fingers. A big, goofy grin erupted on his face.

"Finally!" he shouted, causing pretty much every person in the Great Hall to turn to them. Hermione's face went pink and she made to pull her hand out of Ron's grasp, but Ron, whose ears were slightly pink, too, just laughed.

"Finally," he agreed and, in front of everyone, pulled her in for another kiss.

**A/N: **What did you think? I don't like it quite as much as the last one. Who will be next? Dun dun DUN!

PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!


	3. Rose and Scorpius, Men in Love

**Finally**

**A/N: **So here is the next one! I've never been a huge Rose/Scorpius person, but this idea kind of fell into my head and I like it! I hope you do, too. And thanks to all the reviewers!

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. If it was I would have a life.

**Ch. 3 Rose and Scorpius, Men in Love**

I sat at the edge of the lake, Rose Weasley sitting next to me. I couldn't help but notice the way her wild, red curls flew in all directions in the breeze or the way her porcelain skin sparkled in the sunlight. She was rambling on about something, but I was too busy staring at her to listen.

Ok, I admit it. I, Scorpius Malfoy, am madly in love with Rose Weasley. Why don't I do anything about it, you ask? Well, two reasons. First off, she doesn't feel anything back. Secondly, my whole family has this kind of intense dislike of hers, despite the fact that her uncle saved my dad and my grandmother saved her uncle. Not to mention that her parents helped her uncle defeat Voldemort, a guy whom my family was extremely supportive of during the war.

"MALFOY!"

Rose and I both jumped at the sound of the voice. It was one we knew all too well.

"What do you want, James?" Rose asked, spinning around to face her cousin. Blimey, she's hot when she's mad.

I turned around, too, and saw two of my least favorite people: James Potter and Fred Weasley, Hogwarts' notorious pranksters.

"We just wanted to say hi!" Potter cried, indignant at Rose's accusatory behavior. "Is that a crime?"

Rose narrowed her eyes.

"And," Fred Weasley added, "we wanted to remind him what happened to the last jerk who attempted to hit on a member of the Potter/Weasley clan."

Rose blushed (she is so cute) and stood up angrily. "Let's go, Scorp."

"Scorp?" Potter snorted. "How sweet."

I stood up and it pleased me to see I was as tall as Potter and Weasley now. Ha!

"Come on, Scorp," Rose said and with one last disdainful look at her cousins, she led me away.

When we reached the castle she stopped and leaned against the wall. "Sorry about that," she muttered. "They're so immature."

I laughed. "Don't worry. I'm as tall as them now!" What? That's something worth gloating over!

Rose smiled. I had never realized just how adorable her dimples are. "That's the attitude. They're just jealous."

I raised an eyebrow. "Jealous? Of what?"

She blushed (Did I mention how cute she is when she does that?) and said, "Well . . . you've got a lot going for you . . ."

I smiled and unconsciously leaned closer to her, putting a hand on the wall above her head. "Like what?"

"Umm . . . you're tall, I guess . . . and you're eyes are very . . . very . . ."

"Rose!" a voice called.

I sighed, sad that I would probably never hear just what my eyes are 'very' of, and sad because of the obvious relief that flashed across her face from not having to tell me. I turned and saw Albus Potter racing toward us.

"Hi, Rose!" he beamed. He looked at me once and nodded. "Scorpius."

Stupid Potter. No matter what I do, he always insists on being so bloody polite.

"Potter." I nodded back.

"Guess what, Rose?" he asked. Before she could say anything, he cried, "Andrea Finnigan agreed to go out with me!"

Rose beamed. "That's wonderful, Al! I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks." Potter sighed. "I knew _you_ would be. Dominique thinks I'm just gonna get my heart broken. A _lot _of people think I'm just gonna get my heart broken."

Rose shook her head. "You'll make the right choice, Al. You always do."

"Thanks, Rose," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "You always know just what to say." He gave us one last, fleeting smile and hurried off.

I looked back at her, surprised. "Are you alright?" I asked.

She frowned. "Yes. Why?"

"Well, I just expected you to be a good little cousin and tell him that Finnigan isn't good enough for him."

Rose rolled her eyes and began walking at a fast pace toward Hagrid's hut. "And why would I tell him that?"

"Because," I explained, taking long strides to catch up with her, "Andrea Finnigan is the school sleaze!"

Rose giggled and I committed the glorious sound to memory. "So are you, remember?"

"That's different. What people say about me isn't true!"

She turned on me then, and part of me was scared by the look in her eyes. My more rational side reminded me I was practically a foot taller than her.

"And how do you know that what people say about _her_ is true?" she challenged.

"Well, I --- I ---"

"Exactly," Rose said, continuing to walk. "I don't know what kind of person she is. And frankly, it's not my place to judge."

"Ah," I said knowingly. "So you're one of those non-judgmental types, eh?"

"I try to be. Personally, I hate it when someone judges me."

"But Rose . . . didn't you hear the rumors of what Finnigan did with that bloke from Ravenclaw?"

""I _told _you," she said and I could tell she was getting irritated. I found it slightly endearing. "I don't care about rumors! It's _wrong_ to judge someone you don't know --- or even someone you do."

"So . . ." I said, trying to be inconspicuous. "Even if someone was a Slytherin and --- say . . . related to a bunch of Muggle hating Death Eaters, you wouldn't judge them?"

I could hear the smile in her voice even though her back was to me. Maybe being inconspicuous just isn't my thing. "Never," she said.

And that one little word was basically the straw that broke the phoenix's back.

"Merlin, Rose," I muttered. "Why do you have to be so bloody perfect?"

Before she had time to react, I took her shoulders and spun her around, whilst thinking, _Screw the family! _I had one glimpse of her frightened expression before my lips were crashing against hers.

At first, she seemed so shocked, she just stood there. But then, she threw her arms around my neck and deepened the kiss. I honestly had no idea what was going on or how I could have possibly come to be in this situation: snogging senseless the girl I had been drooling over since second year, but never thought I had a chance with.

_I'm surely dreaming, _I thought dully.

_Oh, who cares! _Another voice in my head told me. _Enjoy it while it lasts, you nitwit! _

"Finally!" a voice suddenly cried, breaking through my reverie. I broke away from Rose, breathing heavily, to see who was so rude as to interrupt. Every person on the grounds was staring at us, but the Potter girl was the culprit. Figures. "I thought I'd carry the secret that you two are bloody meant for each other to the grave!"

I chuckled slightly (Did I just _chuckle_ at something a _Potter_ said? Merlin, men in love are foolish.) and turned back to a pink cheeked Rose. I smiled, almost apologetically. Well, there was no turning back, now.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted that," I whispered.

She giggled and leaned her head on my chest, allowing me to hold her.

"I think I do."

**A/N: **So what did you think? I was kind of taking a chance with the first-person and the tone is pretty different than the first two stories. But sometimes you _have_ to take a chance, you know? Who should I do next? I was thinking either Luna/Rolf or Angelina/George. **PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	4. George and Angelina, Miracle

**Finally**

**A/N: **Sorry for the longish update! Life's just been crazy.

Thank you so much to all the reviewers. I love and appreciate you guys to death.

**Disclaimer:** Really?

**Finally**

**Ch. 4 George and Angelina, Miracle**

They said she was a miracle. They said that anyone who had the ability to make George Weasley smile again was sent straight from Heaven. He disagreed. He thought she was ruining his life. Like he hadn't already done an effective job of that by himself.

George massaged his temple. They were friends. _Strictly_ friends. Why did she have to go and make things so bloody complicated?

_I love you. _The words rang through his head again and again. Three words. That was all they were. Three simple words. Then why did they have the ability to scare him so darn much?

It was a beautiful, clear night. Bill and Fleur had been hosting a party at Shell Cottage, celebrating the birth of baby Victoire. It wasn't a huge party, mostly including family and such. The Delacours had come from France, Percy had brought along his new fiancée, Audrey, and Andromeda and Teddy had decided to come. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were there, too, but they had been part of the family since forever. His mother had insisted that George invite over Angelina Johnson, obviously under the impression that in the past several months, the two had developed into more than just good friends. They were watching and laughing slightly as Gabrielle Delacour chatted with Harry and Ginny, much to the latter's dismay. Then, Angelina turned to him, a determined expression in her eyes, and said those three words. George, in shock, did the only thing that seemed to make sense at the moment. He fled.

This was how he came to be laying on the grass in front of Shell Cottage, gazing up at the twinkling stars, the sounds of laughter and merriment floating out the windows. It seemed incredible to George that anything in this world could seem so carefree.

_I love you. _

_And do you love her?_

George groaned and ran a hand over his face. He didn't know how he felt about her! All he knew was that when she came around, life seemed bearable. When he couldn't sleep at night, disturbed with nightmares about the war, the thought of her dry sense of humor gave him comfort. And when she smiled, the world looked a tad bit brighter. But did that mean he _loved_ her?

_Who am I kidding? It doesn't matter if I love her or not._

And it didn't. She was _Fred's_. That alone made her unattainable. Inaccessible. Out of the question.

"George?" A voice suddenly called, causing him to freeze. "Where are you? I'm not stupid; I know you're out here!"

She really felt the need to tell him she wasn't stupid? He knew that! He _knew_ that she was smart and strong and independent! All more reasons for them not to be together!

He sighed, stood up, and turned to face her. He felt his breath being taken away, something she never failed to do.

She was beautiful and she did not even try. Her chocolate colored hair was in its usual braid, but a few strands fell gracefully into her eyes. Her long legs, athletic build, and glistening, dark skin always reminded George of some kind of mystical goddess.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from her and out to the ocean. She walked up beside him.

"Seeing if you had managed to throw yourself off the cliff or not. I figured you'd at _least_ be courteous enough to wait for me and make the moment a proper tragedy."

George snorted. It was the little comments like that which made him love her.

Wait, did he just think he _loved_ her? The salt water was obviously making him delirious.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Angelina asked, gazing up at the sky. He glanced at her. The moon reflected brightly in her dark eyes and the stars made her skin shimmer.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It is."

She placed her hands roughly in her pockets. Her shoulders heaved with a sigh. They just stood like that for a few moments until Angelina realized George was not about to start the conversation off.

"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?" She never was one to beat around the bush.

"Of what?"

"Don't you play dumb with me, George Weasley. You know exactly 'of what.'"

George exhaled through his nose. As a matter of fact, he did know 'of what,' but he did _not_ know how to talk about it without someone getting hurt. Though at the moment, pain seemed inevitable.

"I don't know what to think," he said truthfully.

"Well, it's simple really. Either you love me back and want to spend the rest of your life with me in the Alps where we will raise seven children, or you wish for me to leave your brother's property and never disgrace you with my horrid presence again."

George glanced irritably at her out of the corner of his eye. "Cut it out, Ang." This was serious business and he was not in the mood for jokes. Plus, it bothered him when she referred to her presence as "horrid."

Angelina looked at him innocently. "Cut what out? I was just trying to make this easier on you."

"I appreciate the attempt, but, to be honest, you're just annoying me."

Angelina crossed her arms indignantly. "Well, ex_cuse_ me," she huffed. "Next time, I won't bother you with my frivolous declarations of love! I'm sure you get them all the time, _don't you_, George?"

George crossed his arms, too, and turned on her. "Quit it. That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Oh, yeah?" she challenged, stepping closer to him. "Well then, please, enlighten me. What _did_ you mean?"

George groaned and ran his hands through his scarlet hair. "I don't know what I meant! I don't know what anything means! I don't know! I _just don't kn_ ---"

But Angelina had had enough. Partly to get him to stop talking and partly because she wanted to know what it would be like, she put her hands around his neck and pulled herself up to him, crushing her lips to his.

George's body reacted to this new development far before his mind could. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing her to him, and deepened the kiss.

Now, George had not kissed many girls in his lifetime. Usually because a girl who was interested in him had already snogged Fred, and he found it difficult to kiss someone who had tasted his brother. The whole idea of it was just plain wrong. But there was something about this kiss . . . about Angelina . . . that just felt . . . _right_.

Slowly, common sense seeped its way back into his brain, and he remembered that, no matter how good it felt, kissing Angelina was wrong. It took all of his strength, but he managed to turn his face away from hers. Her lips rested on his jaw and they both breathed heavily. They stood that way for what felt like eternity.

"This is wrong," George muttered at last. "We shouldn't --- we can't ---_ I_ can't --- Fred . . ."

Angelina slowly lowered herself from him and took a few steps back, incredulity in her eyes. "This is about . . ." she gulped, "_Fred_?"

George bit his lip. "Yeah . . . no . . . well, a bit . . . oh, I don't know!" He sank to his knees, his head in his hands. He used to be so sure of himself! Why on earth did life have to be so confusing?

Angelina hesitated before kneeling next to him. "You still miss him a lot, don't you?" She knew before it was finished that it was a stupid question and she wished she could take it back.

George slowly raised his head to look at her, his blue eyes tortured. "It's not that I miss him," he said at last. "It's more like . . . and I know it's stupid, but . . . it's like I still expect him to come back." He blinked, shocked at his openness. In the two years since the war, he had never said those things to anyone.

Angelina nodded. "Like he _can't_ be gone. Like, when the door opens, it's going to be him, that bright smile still on his face, and he's going to tell you that this was all a big prank."

George just stared at her, amazed that another person could understand the inexplicable feelings that had wreaked havoc upon his mind and heart for so long.

Angelina smiled, as if she knew what was going through his head at the moment. "You shared a relationship with him that I could never even _dream_ of having with another person. But you weren't the only one who loved him."

George gazed into her deep, mysterious eyes, eyes he could never hope to fathom. She admitted it. She still loved Fred like Fred had loved her. He did not understand why this broke his heart so. It should have relieved him, made things so much easier.

"Don't," she whispered, again practically reading his mind. "Don't tell me you're not as good as him. Don't tell me I deserve better than you. Because I _need_ you, George." She dropped her voice and leaned in closer to him. "You know, I was devastated when he died. I was in love with him, for crying out loud! I didn't know how I could possibly go on. I prayed and wished on every star in the night sky that something . . . some_one_ . . . would come around; give me a reason to live again. And then you showed up."

He realized with a start that tears shone in her eyes. Angelina Johnson never cried. "I need you, George," she repeated. "I need you to make me whole again. If you leave me, too . . . I don't know how I'll go on."

And suddenly, George knew what he had to do. It pained his heart, but it was the only way. She would hurt now, but later she would find happiness, fall in love again. With someone _whole_. Not someone who, no matter how much time passed, would always be missing a part of himself (and more than just an ear).

"But Ang . . ." his voice broke, "I don't need _you_. I don't love you. I don't want you. You deserve someone who does. I'm sorry, but . . . we're both better off without each other."

Angelina blinked. "Oh," she breathed. "_Oh_. I didn't --- didn't realize ---" She swallowed. "You're right. I'll --- I'll go now." She stood up. "Bye, George." And, as if she was just leaving for the night and not for eternity, she ran to the cottage without looking back.

George swallowed against the lump in his throat. This was good. It was better for her. He knew it, but it did not make it hurt any less.

He breathed shakily laying back down in the grass and closing his eyes. She was gone. He had lost her. The one thing made his life feel livable. He was _such_ an idiot . . . .

_He walks across the beach, feeling the warm sand in between his toes. The far-off sound of waves crashing against the shore can be heard. He vaguely wonders how he ended up here, but quickly brushes the thought aside. It doesn't matter how he got here. He likes it here. It's peaceful._

_A sudden glare ten times brighter than the sun causes him to shield his eyes. As fast as the flash appeared, however, it ends, leaving a young man in its wake. The man seems to be glowing slightly as he walks down the coastline. He's attired in swim trunks alone and his fair skin sparkles. His scarlet hair that plays with sunlight gives the illusion of his head being on fire. And he's smiling a mischievous, if not somewhat cocky, smile. _

_George slowly comes to a halt. And now he's running, sprinting toward the newcomer, a broad grin on his face. George hugs the young man who is identical to him and the young man hugs him back, tears streaming down both their faces. It feels so good to be able to hug him again, better than George has ever imagined . . . ._

"_Oh, God, Fred," George whispers. "_Merlin_. I've missed you so much." _

_The young man, Fred, smiles and pulls back to hold George at arms length. "Wow, you've let yourself go."_

_George gives the happiest laugh he has laughed in two years and playfully punches Fred in the shoulder. "You're one to talk! I mean what's with the whole glowing thing? That is _so_ stereotypical of dead people."_

_Fred laughs, too, but turns serious. "Seriously, George. You really haven't been yourself for a while now. You've been all mopey and quiet." He shudders._

_George sighs and sits down on the shore. "What do you expect me to do? Act like nothing ever happened, like my _twin brother_ hadn't died?"_

_Fred sighs and sits, too. "Of course not. But I expect you to be the saint-like, Marauder-in-training you are and not wallow in self-pity all the time!"_

_George frowns. "I have _not_ been wallowing in self-pity." _

_Fred rolls eyes. "Oh, don't kid yourself, George, yes you have. What about that whole Angelina thing today?"_

"_That wasn't wallowing in self-pity, that was looking out for her best interests!"_

"_How, by breaking her heart? Face it; you didn't want to be with her because you were afraid she'd make you happy and that she'd make you quit wallowing and start living again. It had nothing to do with her and it had nothing to do with me." _

_George scowls. "That's not true."_

"_Yes it is and you know it," Fred says softly, placating. "But you guys need each other. So please go after her." _

"_Why do you want me to go after her, anyways?" George asks. "Don't you love her?"_

_Fred laughs. "Of course I love her!" he exclaims. "And I love you. And it kills me --- well, figuratively --- to see two of the people I love most in the world so unhappy. You make each other happy. Er --- she makes you happy, right?"_

_George sighs and looks out over the ocean. "I don't know. I mean, she has the ability to make me laugh when no one else can. But she also has the ability to make me cry when no one else can. And her smile just sort lights up the world! But it doesn't always matter because she can be so _infuriating_. And sometimes I think I love her, but ---" He stops, his mouth still open. Slowly, he turns his head to Fred. "There _is_ no 'but.' I just . . . think I love her."_

_Fred laughs and leans back. "Yep, that sounds like Angelina for you. So what are you going to do now?"_

_George bites his lip. "Tell her I love her," he decides at last. "And that I need her."_

_Fred nods and stands up, as George does the same. "Well, my job here is done. See you around, mate."_

"_Wait, you're just gonna . . . _leave_?" George asks incredulously. "But you can't! Fred, you --- you can't leave me. Not again."_

_Fred smiles kindly and George feels himself slowly regaining consciousness. "Don't you get it, George? I never left."_

"_What?" George asks, struggling to maintain the dream. "Of course you left! You died!"_

"_We're twins, George. One-and-the-same. I'm a part of you. And I am _always _with you."_

_The peaceful beach fades, Fred's words echoing throughout the silence, and George is basked in darkness once more._

George's eyes snapped open to see his sister looming over him.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Ginny smiled. "Mum wanted me to come look for you. She was worried, you see, when you didn't come back for a while."

George groaned and sat up. It sounded like the party was still going on. The party . . . the events of the night flooded back to him. Everything from Fred to ---

"Angelina!" George cried, jumping up and startling Ginny. "Do you know where she is?"

Ginny frowned. "Er, she mentioned the Leaky Cauldron, if that helps." She giggled suddenly. "Said something about 'needing to get wasted.'"

"How long ago did she leave? Do you think she'd still be there?" he asked frantically.

"Um, not too long ago. And that depends on what her alcohol tolerance is, I guess. Are you alright, George?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" George assured her. "I just need to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Thanks, Gin!" And without another word, he spun on the spot and disappeared with a loud _Pop!_

Apparating no longer nauseated him as he had done it so many times before, though it was still uncomfortable and he was quite grateful when the sensation ended, leaving him in the dank, dark bar of the Leaky Cauldron.

_Please be here, please be here_, he thought again and again, as he looked around the bar, nodding at Tom the Landlord as he did so.

"George?"

George spun around and allowed a large smile to light up his face as he saw the girl staring at him from the table in the furthest corner. A bottle was in her hand, but she did not appear drunk yet, having a high tolerance to alcohol (being friends with the Weasley twins did that to you).

"Angelina," he sighed, walking over to her. "Can we --- er --- talk out side?" And without waiting for an answer, he pulled her out into the courtyard where the gateway for Diagon Alley stood.

"George ---" Angelina began, obviously confused.

"Listen ---" George interrupted, wasting no time. "Back there, I said some things --- but I just want you to know that --- that I didn't mean them because you're amazing and --- and any bloke who _didn't_ want you would be out of there mind! I was just scared, but --- but I realize now that I need you because . . ." he stared into her wide, gorgeous eyes, which reflected the stars above and sighed. "Because I love you."

Angelina's eyes widened even more before narrowing. "_Really_?"

George smiled. "Cross my heart and hope to ---" But he was not able to finish the sentence because Angelina suddenly pressed her lips to his.

"I love you, too," she whispered after pulling back.

George smiled and held her to him, his chin resting on her head, just staring up at the starry sky. And in that his moment, his heart was lighter than it had been for years. He knew the pain of Fred's death would never truly lessen, but perhaps he would finally find happiness and peace with the help of this _miracle_ of a girl.

**A/N:** Phew, that was a long one! And a bit angsty, too! What did you guys think? PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Ha ha, that rhymed!)

Next up . . . LUNA LOVEGOOD AND ROLF SCAMANDER!!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!


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